


Every Second of Hope

by nagi_schwarz



Series: Foxtrot [56]
Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1, The Dollhouse - Fandom
Genre: Crossover, Gen, not actually RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2016-02-18
Packaged: 2018-05-26 20:03:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6254017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagi_schwarz/pseuds/nagi_schwarz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>None; written for the <a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://comment-fic.livejournal.com/">comment_fic</a> prompt: "Any, any, unable to let go". President Hayes dresses down a couple of SGC Generals for not telling him about The Dollhouse. Amelia Flanigan gets to see her son again. Set Post-series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Every Second of Hope

President Hayes sat behind his desk in the Oval Office, hands clasped in a very business-like manner, and glared at the two men standing opposite him.

"So the Stargate Program has gone public and the IOA wants to see your heads roll," Hayes said.

Landry looked suitably apologetic.

O'Neill's expression was blank, but Hayes sensed insolence behind it.

"On top of that, you're telling me that there's been a multi-level international security nightmare due to programmable humans and that more than one of those humans have made it into key positions in Stargate Command, including the military commander of the Atlantis Expedition."

Landry cast O'Neill a dark look.

O'Neill had the good grace to look chagrined.

"And none of you told me about this Dollhouse nonsense until some woman from – " Hayes squinted at the memo – "Koosharem, Utah started raising the hue and cry because said military commander of the Atlantis Expedition is actually her son, one Joseph D. Flanigan, who was declared dead after he went missing in Cabo during Spring Break two decades ago. Apparently is he not only dead, but he solved a math problem previously considered unsolvable, which has netted him nominations for a Fields Medal and a substantial monetary prize, but she doesn't care about the money, because she wants her son back."

"To be fair," O'Neill said, "none of us knew he'd solved that math problem."

"That's not the point, Jack," Hayes said. "The point is I cannot help guide this country in a time of crisis if I don't even know what's going on in it."

"The former Dollhouse, er, employees have been rather cagey about what they know," Landry said. "They're understandably wary about unscrupulous people getting hold of the imprint technology, and with the issues of Ba'al cloning and imprinting people and that senator being a doll, their caution is understandable."

"You've saved this galaxy multiple times from alien races with far superior technology," Hayes said. "Surely you can handle one angry mother who thinks Patrick Sheppard stole her son and is trying to topple the entire Sheppard Utilities empire as we speak."

O'Neill's gaze darkened, but his tone was light when he said, "Sir, I'd take aliens over a protective mother any day."

Hayes immediately thought of Sara and Charlie and winced internally.

"Well, what are you doing about this Dollhouse business?"

"While the IOA is dithering about whether to send Atlantis back to where it rightfully belongs," O'Neill said, "we've redirected some of our Atlantis resources to deal with the problem."

"And?"

"And there's only so much we can do. Rossum isn't just in America," Landry said. "Given the sudden declassification of the Stargate program, some of our allies are rather reluctant to...share in the burden of dealing with the Rossum problem."

"So what do I tell Amelia Flanigan?" Hayes asked.

Landry looked at O'Neill. O'Neill looked at the floor, took a deep breath. Then he looked Hayes in the eye.

"As much as I'd like to say 'put her out of her misery, give her back her son', has anyone spoken to Sheppard? How much of her son is even left?"

Hayes reached for the phone on his desk. "Let's find out."

*

John and the others who'd managed to escape from the Rossum-IOA holding cell were clustered in the infirmary, worried about Daniel who'd tried to heroically sacrifice himself so the others could escape and really only ended up slowing them down, resulting in Vala berating him all the way home and Kilo holding him together by accessing her multiple doctor imprints.

"You know Rossum will abandon that place," Ceccoli said.

Echo sighed. "It's probably already abandoned."

Sierra tossed her head. "We should get some marines and go back."

"No," Mitchell said. "Landry's in charge of this operation now. We collate our data, we regroup, and then we go in."

"Echo's right," John said. "With Sheppard tech, they can go underground and off the grid and will be almost impossible to track."

"We do have bait," Mitchell said. He cast a significant look at John and the other former Dollhosue actives.

Rodney snarled at him. "John is not bait! He's not some worm you can dangle on a hook and –"

"Okay," Lam said. "All of you need to go. Daniel is stable, so it's time for you to leave."

Reluctantly, they let themselves be herded out of the infirmary.

Lam tapped John's shoulder. "Except you. Go get kitted up into full Service Dress. The _Hammond_ will be beaming you up shortly."

John paused. "What? Where? Why?" He glanced at Rodney, who shrugged.

"Mitchell?" John asked.

Mitchell also shrugged. "I have no clue what's going on. Lam?"

She shook her head. "I was just told to pass on the message. Bring your cover, just in case."

John lifted a hand to his hair defensively. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you don't have time to stop by the base barber but you're about to see someone for whom you ought to look regulation," Major Davis said, approaching them in the hallway. His expression was grim.

"What's wrong?" Rodney demanded.

"Nothing's wrong," Davis said, "but the President wants to see you."

John blinked. "The president of...?"

"The United States." Davis pointed toward the locker rooms. "Go. Dress. Someone fetched your uniform from storage."

"If it even still fits," John protested, but he obeyed.

After a quick shower, he was dismayed to discover that his uniform was a little too loose now, but he wasn't particularly vain about how it hung, mostly alarmed that he'd lost weight without even noticing. Echo, Sierra, and Kilo all tried fruitlessly to help him at least comb down his hair, no matter how much he explained that it wasn't his fault and his hair was just _like that_.

"We could get the clipper from the base barber," Sierra said. "I have a beautician –"

"No time," Davis said. He moved to stand beside John, and there it was, the golden glow of an Asgard transport beam.

John barely had time to collect himself on the bridge of the _Hammond_ before he was beamed down again.

Into the middle of a bunch of gawking White House staffers. They'd left him and Davis a wide berth to beam down, but they all stared. It was the White House. Did they have nothing better to do?

An older woman wearing a plum dress-suit was seated at the desk outside of a closed door that was almost invisible against the white paneling of the wall. Davis sat down in one of the waiting chairs.

"Lieutenant-Colonel John Sheppard?" The woman looked him up and down, arched an eyebrow when she saw his hair.

John resisted the urge to don his cover; he was indoors, so he kept his cover tucked under one arm. "Yes, ma'am."

"The President will see you in just a moment," she said.

John nodded. The White House staffers continued to stare at him. He moved to sit in the chair on the other side of the door to the Oval Office – _the Oval Office_ – but then the woman said,

"You can go in, Colonel."

John straightened up, squared his shoulders. "Thank you, ma'am," he said quietly.

She rose up and pushed open the door.

" – Unable to give up on something you should have given up on a long time ago," a man was saying.

John didn't recognize him but did know that his suit was very expensive.

"My son is worth every second of hope I've poured into him over all these years," Amelia Flanigan said, "and the fact that I'm here means that my _inability to give up_ has been thoroughly justified."

John came up short.

And then Dave Sheppard said, "Give it a rest, Sterling."

Amelia hissed at him, "Don't think I won't have you brought up on charges for kidnapping my Joe."

President Hayes sat behind the massive wooden desk, hands clasped, expression impassive. Sterling, who was most likely one of the many Sheppard family lawyers, rounded on Amelia.

"The contract your son signed was binding and perfectly legal," he snapped.

"Lieutenant-Colonel Sheppard," President Hayes said.

The door swung shut behind John. He'd heard prison doors that sounded less ominous.

Everyone turned to look at him.

Again with the staring.

John suspected he'd have to get used to it.

Sterling opened and closed his mouth like a beached fish. Dave's expression was carefully impassive; John had learned as a child to maintain the same expression in unsteady circumstances. He felt it slide over his features when Amelia's eyes went wide, and she started toward him.

"Joe, baby boy."

In the back of John's mind, Joe went wild. John surrendered control before a battle resulted in disaster.

"Mama," Joe said, and he broke posture, stepped in and leaned down to hug her. Had she always been that much smaller than him?

"Well," President Hayes said, "I guess that answers that."

Amelia held him tightly, sobbing against his jacket.

"Mr. Sheppard," Sterling began.

"In a minute," John said quietly.

Amelia pulled back, blinked at him. "Joe?"

"Yes, Mama. I'm in here, but usually John's in control."

Behind him, Dave made a strangled noise.

"Baby, what did they do to you?"

"It's a long story."

"But–"

Joe buried his face in her hair and held her tightly. "It's so good to see you."

She recognized the deflection for what it was but let it go because they had an audience. "I've missed you so much," she said. "When I heard your voice, I knew it was you. I _knew_ you were alive, that you'd come back to me." She swept him into another hug, and he settled into the familiar warmth and closeness with a happy sigh.

John hadn't been hugged by his mother since he was fourteen, and for a moment he was fiercely jealous of Joe's chance to have what John could never have again.

"Mr. President, this is highly irregular," Sterling began.

Joe patted his mother's hair and whispered to John, _Promise I'll get to see her again._

_I promise._

_Handle this, please, so I can go home. At least for a little while._

John nodded and pulled back, straightened up.

Amelia wiped away her tears. "What's wrong, Joey?" And then she frowned. "You're not Joe right now, are you?"

"No, ma'am." John was sure that any of his previous commanding officers would be unable to comprehend the level of deference he had injected into his voice.

"John," Dave began.

John turned to his brother and saw how pale he was. "Dave."

"You – you know?"

"What I am? What Dad paid to have done to me _and_ Joe? Yes."

"How long?"

"Since I shipped out to Atlantis," he said. "I suspected a little before then, when everything went wrong with Holland in Afghanistan. The Dollhouse sent Topher in to repair me, but he wasn't as discreet as he thought he'd been."

President Hayes frowned at the word _repair_. "Colonel Sheppard, is what this woman saying true? You're not really John Sheppard? You're really Joseph Flanigan?"

"That's a complicated question, Mr. President."

"How so?"

"Any person who was an active and had multiple imprints in their brains and is able to access and utilize all of those imprints from the doll state becomes a whole new person, sir. That's why most of the composite actives are called by their designations, like Echo and Sierra and Kilo. When I had my composite event, I was John Sheppard, not Foxtrot, so I consider myself John Sheppard, but I'm more than that."

Dave's expression was impassive again, but John knew from the set of his shoulders and the curl of his fists that he wanted to take a swing at something – or bolt.

Sterling sank into one of the chairs opposite the President's desk, looked shell-shocked.

Amelia made a questioning noise. "Joe?"

"Indeed, Colonel Sheppard," President Hayes said, "what about young Joe?"

"Not so young, not anymore. I'm only a couple of weeks older than him. He's more or less aged right along with me. And he's here." John tapped his temple.

"And doesn't he have a right to have his body back? His life back? According to what Mrs. Flanigan has demonstrated to me, you – John Sheppard – were the one who died during Spring Break in Mexico."

"We haven't had a chance to discuss it yet," John said. "While we were on Atlantis, once we worked out a system between us, we agreed I would stay in control so as not to risk military discipline and being sent back to Earth and Rossum taking me back and wiping me again. Also, my military training – and some of my imprint skills – were vital to our continued survival, and the continued survival of the Expedition."

President Hayes raised his eyebrows. "You discuss things with your...imprints?"

"Joe is a real person," John said calmly. "They're all real people. They didn't ask to be born, and it's not their fault they don't have bodies of their own. Neither I nor anyone else has the right to decide whether they live or die. We co-exist."

President Hayes hummed thoughtfully. "Interesting."

"That's one word for it, sir."

"You know I don't have authority to do anything to the Dollhouse directly," President Hayes said. "There's due process for that. But you've given me a lot to think about."

John inclined his head respectfully. "I understand, sir."

President Hayes chuckled. "Everything I've heard about John Sheppard is that he's just as insolent as Jack O'Neill, but you've been nothing but respectful since you darkened my doorstep. Are you the real John Sheppard?"

"As my brother can attest, I was raised to have manners when appropriate, sir." John slewed a glance at Dave, who smiled weakly.

Amelia made a strangled noise at _brother_.

"What am I supposed to do with you, though? You've been programmed by essentially an enemy agent, and you have access to some of the most classified and dangerous tech in, well, two galaxies."

"Sir, I recommend you allow me and my team at the SGC to rout Rossum and bring them to their knees. I also recommend you allow Atlantis to return to its home galaxy so the people there can be defended from the Wraith. I also recommend that you grant me forty-eight hours' emergency leave so Joe can spend some time with his mother before I go back into battle."

"Can I grant you leave?"

"You're the Commander in Chief, sir."

"True." President Hayes reached out, pressed a button on the intercom on his desk. "Jack?"

"Sir?" It was General O'Neill.

"I'm granting Lieutenant-Colonel John Sheppard forty-eight hours of emergency leave so Mrs. Flanigan can re-acquaint herself with her son."

"Yes, sir. Can I have half an hour to scramble a security detail for Sheppard and his mother? Because Rossum still wants him, and we need him. To save the planet and a couple of galaxies a few more times, you know."

Sterling was pale and shaking and looked like his world had been turned upside down.

"Half an hour," President Hayes said, and disconnected the call. "Gentlemen, Ma'am, it's been a pleasure, but now I need to take an important call from the IOA about the City of Atlantis."

John nodded, at attention, and then turned to Amelia.

"I remember you, Johnny," she said. "You were such a good friend to Joe."

He offered her is arm, felt her settle against him, and together they left the Oval Office. Davis was chatting idly with the President's receptionist, and all of the gawking staffers had gone back to work.

"John," Dave said, reaching out.

John cast Amelia an apologetic look, stepped away from her. "Dave."

"John, I –"

"You did what Dad said. We all did."

"You never did. After Mom died, you –"

"I understand. I do."

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

"I didn't think –"

"I know. But I still have to do what's right. Not just for that woman over there who never gave up on her son, but also for the other men and women who were deceived, and used, and abused."

Dave went even paler.

Behind him, Sterling wore a pinched, nervous expression. He'd probably been sure of his footing when he first entered that office. Someone higher up the food chain had probably lied to him about how strong his case was. Or maybe someone higher up the food chain hadn't know.

But then Sterling reached down, pushed back his sleeve, and John saw he wore a familiar back wristband. "I –" His eyelids fluttered.

John reached out, steadied him. "Dave, you might want to call this man a doctor."

"What? Why?"

"He's probably a Dollhouse active," John said.

Dave helped him lever Sterling into a chair, and then he spoke to the receptionist quickly.

John turned away, straightened his jacket, and headed back to Amelia. "We'll have a security escort any moment now. Where are you staying?"

"A small motel nearby," Amelia said. "But it's terrible."

"Why don't we go out to dinner?"

Amelia blinked. "There's a nice little diner nearby -"

"Somewhere nice," John said.

"But -"

"I've got at least five years' pay I haven't spent, with combat and hazard pay on top of that. I promise, I've got this."

Amelia nodded. "If you're sure."

"I am, ma'am."

"That would be nice, Colonel Sheppard."

"It'll be Joe soon, ma'am. I promise."

Amelia put her hands on his shoulders, tugged him down so they were eye-level. "I've missed you, baby."

John slipped backward in his own mind, let Joe take over. The last thing he heard was, "I've missed you too, Mama."


End file.
